Watching Living Being
by kuasimodo28
Summary: She was so tired. Tired of being depressed. Tired of not being able to touch. Tired of wanting and never having. Tired of being Rogue." The sequel to "Watching". Now updated! Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that ****I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though! ****Btw, OC's in later chapters are all mine. **

_AN: First of all, I owe a major apology to all of you who so kindly reviewed my crappy so-called sequel to 'Watching'. I realised that the whole story was a bad continuation to 'Watching' and took it out. I've been working on this story for a couple of months and I'm much happier with this. So thanks, all you wonderful people who reviewed the last one. I think you'll like this one much more too! _

_Review if: _

_a) __you like it. It'll make me happy, and want to write more. _

_b) __You don't like it. I'm all for constructive criticism. But no flames, please! _

_So, I'll stop blabbing and let you get on with reading. _

**Watching. Living. Being: Chapter 1.**

She missed them. They were the only ones who had understood her. But they had left her alone. Kurt to get away from watching Kitty be happy with someone else, and Logan to God knows where. Rogue knew she shouldn't be surprised. She knew that she should have expected it. After all, everybody she got close to left, or fell into a coma, or betrayed her. Irene, her mother Mystique, Cody. Why should any of the X-Men be different?

But even as she told herself this, she knew it was not true. She knew that Kurt and Logan genuinely cared for her. Kurt, because he told her that all the time, his eyes reflecting his every thought and emotion. And Logan, gruff Logan, because he didn't have to say anything; calling her 'Stripes' was enough.

Though she told herself not to cry, she could feel the tears well in her eyes. She sniffed, and rubbed at her eyes furiously. She would not cry. When had she become this pathetic, snivelling human being? She was the Rogue, for Pete's sakes! She was a loner by choice, and she liked it that way.

So who cared that her brother was far away? Who cared if Logan was off doing God knows what? And who the bloody hell cared if Gambit was sleeping with every skirt he came across? She didn't care! She was fine on her own. She needed nobody and no one, not Kurt, not Logan and definitely not Remy. Especially not a skirt-chasing, cigarette-smoking, lying Cajun thief, who wouldn't know a woman with a brain if she walked up to him and punched him on the nose.

On an impulse, she walked to her mirror and removed the Queen of Hearts card that he had given her years ago. It was crumpled and torn, but it was her most treasured possession. She could not bring herself to throw it away, but she did put it away deep in her dresser drawer.

She stood there for a long while, staring at the closed drawer. Then, with a sigh, she pulled it open and took out the card. _Okay, so ah love the skirt-chasing, cigarette-smoking, lying Cajun thief_, she thought._ Though a fat lot of good it does meh. Bloody Swamp Rat._

She lay back on her bed, defeated. She was so tired. Tired of being depressed. Tired of not being able to touch. Tired of wanting and never having. Tired of being Rogue. _Ah need a change_, she told herself silently. _If Kurt and Logan can just up and leave, why can't ah?_ _Maybe ah can go to Canada. Or to Los Angeles._

She sat up on her bed, suddenly excited. Los Angeles, the city of angels. A place where she could lose herself. It was just what she needed. A change, a new place, a fresh start. She was twenty five years old, and she had never lived on her own. Maybe it was time for her to try.

_Professor_, Rogue sent the message telepathically. _Ah need to talk to ya_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though! Btw, OC's in later chapters are all mine**.

**Watching. Living. Being**: Chapter 2

"And you are sure that this is what you want, Rogue?" Professor Charles Xavier asked, studying the girl, _no_, he amended silently, young woman in front of him.

"No," she answered. "But ah do know that if ah don't do this, ah'll go mad, Professor. Ah don't know if this is what ah want, but ah do know that this is what ah need."

"Then, I suppose the only thing to do would be to wish you luck?" Charles said with a sad smile. All his children were growing and leaving the coop, but somehow, he worried more about Rogue than anyone else.

"Thank ya, Professor!" the smile that burst out was the most genuine that he had seen in a long time. That alone convinced him that it was time to let her go. "Ah'll keep in touch, ah promise. But," here she hesitated. "Ah don't want anyone knowin' where ah'll be."

"I don't think that that is entirely wise, Rogue," he told her after a pause. "We are a family here, and if you disappear without telling them, they would be very upset."

"Ah know," Rogue shrugged. "Ah'll tell them ah'm goin' for a vacation or somethin'. But after that, could ya just tell them ah'm not comin' back? Ah'll let ya know where ah'll be, but that's all."

Charles shook his head. "I have to respect your wishes," he told her. "But I think you're doing the rest an injustice."

"Ah know ah am," Rogue replied wearily. The elation she'd felt moments ago was gone, to be replaced by doubt and anxiety. "But ah want a fresh start. And that means no ties to tha past."

Charles nodded silently, sighing. "If that's what you want."

"It is."

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my Gosh, Rogue!!" Kitty said excitedly. "I can't believe you're going to Europe! It's, like, so romantic."

"Yeah," Rogue grinned in spite of herself. "Sean and Moira said that ah can have tha lay of their castle in Scotland. An' Betsy's promised ta take me tha Louvre."

"And a real life castle! And Paris!!" Kitty shrieked. "When you come back, I want, like, all the details! If it wasn't for this little fellow," she laid her hand on her swollen belly, "I'll be, like, coming with you!"

Rogue said nothing, listening absently as her best friend chattered excitedly about the plans she and Piotr had made for the baby. It suddenly hit her that she wouldn't be around to watch this miracle be born. That she would not see Kitty be a mom. That she'd be missing a lot.

"Rogue?" Something in the tone warned Rogue that this wasn't the first time Kitty had called her name.

"Sorry," she said, thinking quickly. "Ah spaced out for a while."

"I could tell," Kitty said grinning. "I would too, if I was, like, going to Europe. Anyway," she said sobering up. "There's something I want to ask you."

"Shoot."

"Will you be my baby's godmother?"

Rogue stared at Kitty in surprise. "Meh? Ya want meh to be the godmother?"

"Why not?" Kitty asked. "You're my best friend. Who else would I ask?"

"Kit, ah…" Rogue was at a loss for words. "Ah don't think ah'm the right person for tha job. Ya should ask Jean or Storm."

"No, I want you," Kitty said calmly. "Next to Piotr, you are the person I trust most in the world. I know that if anything were to happen, you'd take care of my baby."

Overwhelmed by Kitty's faith in her, Rogue could only stare.

"Rogue, take these couple of weeks to think about it, ok? That's all I'm asking." Uncharacteristically sober, Kitty brushed her hand over Rogue's gloved one and left.

Alone, Rogue looked at the room she'd lived in for a decade. There was no denying that she had been the happiest here, but she had also been the most broken here. And though she wanted to stay, wanted to hold Kitty's baby in her arms, she knew she couldn't. "Ah'm sorry, Kit," she whispered, a tear rolling slowly down her cheek.

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As she prepared to walk into the gate, Rogue took a final look at the faces of her family. Kitty, enormously pregnant, leaning on Piotr's arm. Jean and Scott, grinning from ear to ear as they watched their son leap onto Bobby's back. Storm, eyes sad as she watched Rogue go. Professor Xavier, face unreadable. And finally, Remy, leaning back against the chair he was occupying, waving jauntily at her. As she stood there looking at him, she realised that this might well be the last time she would see him. With that realisation came resolve. She set her bags down and walked towards him, enjoying the faltering of his smile as she came closer. _If ah never see him again, _she thought,_ ah'm gonna make sure ah'm tha girl he never forgets._

She leaned over and kissed him. Not long enough to drain him, but just enough so she could keep a part of him inside. When she finally pulled away, he protested, trying to pull her closer. With a smile, she stroked his cheek with her gloved hand. "See ya around, Swamp Rat."

She sauntered back to the gate and picked up her bags. Turning around, she studied all them for the last time, committing each face to memory. Taking a deep breath, she walked through the gate, and away from everything she knew.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though! Btw, OC's in later chapters are all mine**.

**Watching. Living. Being**: Chapter 3

_Dear Kitty, _the letter read_. I'm sure that the professor would have told all of you by now that I'm not coming back. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you this before, but I knew you'd try to talk me out of it, and worse, I was afraid I might have listened._

_I needed a change, Kit. I need to find out who I am. I'm tired of being Rogue. Maybe somewhere else, I can try to be Marie again. Or someone else. I just know that Rogue hasn't been happy for a while. _

_I wish I could be there to see my godchild be born (I'm still the godmother aren't I?) I know he's going to be a wonderful baby. And Kit, I know you're going to be a fantastic mother. _

_Tell the rest, ok? I've written Remy too, but I know he'd probably try to find me or blame himself for me leaving. I need you to make him stay away from me. I need to move on._

_I know you don't understand why I'm doing this, or the way I'm doing this, but I had to do it this way. _

_I guess I never told you that you're the best friend I've ever had. I don't need a sister, cause I've got you. _

_Take care of Piotr and the rest. I know everyone sees a valley girl when they see you, but I know better. You're the best of us, Kit. I hope you remember that._

_Love,_

_Rogue_

Folding the letter away carefully, Kitty wept.

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_Dear Remy, _the letter read._ There are so many things I want to apologise for. But I'll start with this. I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye the way I wanted to, the way I should have. _

_I'm sorry I can't touch you, can't kiss you, can't hold you the way I've always wanted to, but never could. _

_But most of all, I'm sorry I never told you I love you. It's true. I can say it now, when I'm far away and won't have to see your face when I do. I love you, Swamp Rat. I think I've loved you ever since you gave me that damn Queen of Hearts. Do you know I've kept it all these years? I used to think that it was a symbol of hope, that we'd eventually be together._

_But Remy, I've finally realised that we won't. That though things change, some things will always remain the same. _

_I'm leaving for many reasons, Rem. It's not just you. I need to know who I am without the X-Men, without the agony of being so close to you and never being able to touch you, without being Rogue. Maybe I can find that somewhere else. _

_So please don' blame yourself or try to find me. That's the one thing I'm asking you. Let me live my life. _

_Goodbye Remy. Take care of yourself._

_Love, _

_Marie_

Something fluttered from the envelope. Bending down to pick it up, he furiously wiped away the tears that fell as he realised what it was. It was a tattered, crumpled, Queen of Hearts.

Staggering out of the room, he went in search of the nearest bar. He needed some alcohol, something that would take the edge of this horrible choking feeling in his chest.

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_Dear Professor, _the letter read._ Los Angeles is everything I've dreamed of and more. It's crowded, noisy, selfish and I absolutely love it. _

_I'm just someone in the crowd. I'm not a mutant, I'm not the weird girl in class, I'm nobody at all. And I love knowing that. _

_I've written Kitty and Remy. But that's all. If Kurt asks, tell him I'm happy and I'll find him when I'm ready. _

_I've found a job here, professor. It's nothing fancy, just a waitress who sings on band night, but it's a classy place, not a dive. The tips are good, and the customers behave themselves, mostly. _

_I've changed my name, by the way. It's not Rogue, or Marie. I'm now Angela Logan. I was going to use your name as my surname, but it's rather unusual, so I'm using Logan's. I hope he doesn't mind. I'm also working on losing my Southern accent. I think I'm halfway there._

_Anyway, this is the last you're going to hear from me. If you need me, this is my current address. You know how else to find me. _

_Thank you for everything professor. I appreciate everything you've done for me._

_Love,_

_Angela Logan._

_P.S. Has a nice ring doesn't it? _

Charles read the letter one more time, trying to imagine the Rogue he knew writing it. And he couldn't. The Rogue he knew would never have been so open about anything. He smiled. _Maybe Angela Logan can make it after all._ Alone in his study, he poured himself a shot of brandy, ignoring the tear that coursed down his cheek. "To Angela Logan," he said, raising the glass in a toast. "May her life be everything she wants it to be."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though! Btw, OC's in later chapters are all mine**.

**Watching. Living. Being**: Chapter 4.

**_2 Years Later_**

"Hey Angie, table 8 needs more mixers," Sharon called out as she wound her way through the crowd.

"I'm on it," Angela Logan said, leaning over the counter to pick up some cans of mixers. "Any special requests?"

"Only that you sing tonight," Sharon said, laughing.

"Was it Ben again?" Angie asked, grinning, looking back at their bartender,

"Yep," Sharon said, deftly balancing a tray in one hand and wiping the counter with the other. "I swear, if that man wasn't as gay as a daffodil, I'd think he was in love with you!"

"Oh, but we're madly in love," Angie laughed, raising her voice so Ben could here. "His being gay is just a cover up to mask our red hot affair. Right, Ben?"

"Sure thing, baby," Ben joked as he mixed an apple martini for the blonde in front of him. "But now that Sharon knows the truth, we're gonna have to kill her."

Sharon shook her head. "You two are two peas in a pod."

Angie's eyes met Ben's, and in them was the dark knowledge that both knew each other's secret, and that both would take those secrets to the grave. _That's truer than you know, Sharon_, Angie thought. She gave Ben a wry smile before heading out to deliver her drinks.

"You're on, Angie," Tom, the stage manager, told her. "We've got a few requests today," he went on, handing her a hat full of papers.

"A few?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"You're popular," he grinned. The taking the mike from her, he announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to present to you a special treat you can only get once a night here at Mike's; our very own, the lovely Angela Logan!"

"Thanks, Tom," Angie said, smiling at Tom fondly. "Today is special requests night," she went on, picking up the hat to show the audience. "So I'll try to accommodate y'all. First song," she carefully unravelled the piece of paper, and fought not to roll her eyes, "is '_You Were Meant For Me_' by Jewel. Jerry, I know you wanted this!"

Amidst the catcalls and cheers, the guitarist struck up the chord and the crowd fell silent as Angela added her clear voice to the tune.

_(AN: Sorry, the song's way too long. Please just imagine it:))_

At the end of the song, applause and calls of "Angie!" greeted her. She stood up and took a bow.

"Thanks guys. Now, how about we move to something a little more fun?" She said, unravelling another piece of paper. "'_That Don't Impress Me Much'_ by Shania Twain!" As the band started the beat, Angela looked out at the crowd, grinning. The grin faltered when she saw the blonde at the bar studying her, expression unreadable. A cold finger of foreboding touched her spine.

_She doesn't know who I am. No one does_, she assured herself. _I'm Angela Logan, not Rogue, not Marie. Angela. Angie_.

She fixed her smile and began to sing.

At the bar, Carol Danvers stared at the woman on stage, before turning to study Ben. He was definitely the one, but she needed some evidence. Deftly palming the glass he had left on the counter, she paid Ben and walked away. Outside, she made a call. "Yes, general. I've got something that might verify his identity." She paused and nodded. "Yes, I'm sending it to the lab myself. Ms Marvel out."

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"Angie," Ben said, coming up behind her. "What happened up there?"

"That blonde at the bar," Angie said, shaking her head, opening the door that led to their apartment. "Something about her…" She paused. "I think she knows who I am."

"Angie," Ben said patiently, pulling her towards her room. "You look nothing like Rogue or Marie. She was a brunette with white streaks, too much dark make-up and has a Southern accent. You're nothing like her. Look at you! " He turned her towards the mirror that hung above her dresser. A different person looked back at her. Gone was Goth, depressed Rogue. Instead, a stranger looked back at her. Her raven black hair was cut in a short sassy do and accented the blue of her eyes. The whole set of her face was different. While Rogue had on a constantly depressed expression, a testament to how hard her life had been, Angela's face was softer, reflecting the happy childhood Angela had had back in Boston. She knew that if any of her old friends had seen her, they would never have recognised her.

As usual, looking at her new reflection, Angela felt calm. "You're right, Ben," she said, gloved hand reaching to touch the one on her shoulder. "I guess she wasn't looking for me."

Still, she couldn't shake of the nagging feeling that that woman hadn't just wandered in the bar for a drink. She was after something, or someone.

Back at the lab, Carol Danvers grinned at the results. "Yes," she exclaimed happily. "We've got him!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though! Btw, OC's in later chapters are all mine**.

**Watching. Living. Being**: Chapter 5.

"Ah don't know, Ben," Angela said, laughing. "Ah still think that guy wanted ya more than he wanted meh."

"You think?" Ben asked, brightening. "He was quite nice-looking wasn't he?"

"Yes, Ben he was quite 'nice-looking'!" she mimicked. "Tell me," she teased, "how many men have ya brought home in tha past two years?"

"Honey, I don't keep count. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell." Then, catching her expression, he laughed. "I really don't. I use 'em and lose 'em."

Curled up on the couch, Angela took another sip of wine. "What's it like?" she asked Ben. "Ya know," she lowered her voice to a whisper; the alcohol had numbed her usual inhibitions. "Sex?"

"Bad sex is bad," Ben told her, grimacing. "As in, horrible, and something you wish you'd never done. But good sex, wow. How do I explain good sex?"

"That good, huh?" she asked, staggering up to get more wine from the fridge.

"Tell you what, honey," he said, following her. Taking hold of her hand, he tugged the leather glove off. "How about you touch me a little bit and then you can see what I mean."

Angela yanked her hand away, almost falling in the process. Only Ben's grip on her cotton-covered arm kept her from falling. "Are ya crazy?" she gasped in horror. "What if ah drain ya dry?"

Drunk enough to be optimistic, Ben grinned. "I trust you. You won't hurt me."

"Sure ah will, sugar," she caught herself, only then realising that she had lapsed back to her Southern accent. She must be further gone than she thought.

"Sugar?" he giggled. "You, honey bear, are smashed."

"Yes, ah am. And so are ya!" she jabbed her finger in the general area of his chest and giggled at his grunt of pain.

"That'll make this easier, won't it?" he asked.

She sobered. "Ah don't want ta hurt ya, Benny. Ah love ya. Ain't a lot of people ah can say that ta."

"I know. I love you too, baby. But you won't hurt me. Not too much anyway. I can take it like a man. I think."

Still she hesitated. "What if ya pass out, like right here on tha floor?" she waved her hand at the tiny kitchen.

"Good thing we cleaned up this morning, huh?"

She laughed, she couldn't help it. "Ah tell ya, Benny, ya're tha best thing to happen ta meh."

He grinned. "Right back at you, sugar."

She would always remember him that way. His sunny blond hair curling carelessly around his face, his warm brown eyes laughing. How he had willingly offered to share himself with her.

The sound of a shot caught her completely by surprise. She whipped her head towards the sound and saw nothing. "Benny, what tha hell was that?" she asked, running toward the window. The street was clear.

When he didn't answer, she turned back impatiently. "We have ta go check it out. Somebody - . Benny?"

He was lying face down in a pool of growing blood. It was only then that she noticed a tiny hole in the window, the size of a bullet. In shock, she stared at the hole, then back at her best friend. Realisation dawned and she sprinted towards him, landing on her knees beside him. "Ben? Benny? Benny!!!"

He didn't answer.

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"And you didn't see anyone?" the uniform asked her again.

She pulled her knees closer to her face. "No," she mumbled. "We were just talkin', and ah heard a shot. It was really loud. Ah-I ran to the window to see what was happenin'. Didn't notice the hole in the window. Only realised it when I turned around ta talk to him. He was, oh god. Benny, he was on the floor and there was blood. So much blood. On my hands, on me. Benny's blood."

"Angie?" her head whipped up at the sound of Sharon's voice. "Angie!" Sharon came hurrying up to her. Angela could see the tears on Sharon's face and she broke. "He's dead," she sobbed as Sharon's arms came around her. "Benny's dead. Somebody shot him."

"Ma'am, I know that this must be a difficult time for you," the uniform said, after a long pause. "But anything you can tell us would be very helpful."

She nodded, struggling to calm herself. "I can't tell you anymore, officer," she said, her voice even. "I don't know who'd want Ben dead, because he was a good man. Everybody loved him."

He nodded, resigned. "Well, if you think of anything else, anything at all, you give me call, okay?" he said, handing her a card. "Do you have a place you can go? Somebody to stay with?"

"She can stay with me," Sharon said, her arms tightening around Angela. "Can we go now? She's exhausted. I want to take her home." She patted Angela. "I'll go get your things, ok? And then we can go."

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When Angie woke up the next morning, she didn't know where she was. Then it all came rushing back. Hunching her shoulders against the pain, she willed away the tears that threatened. She would not cry. She was going to find out who had killed Ben. And she was going to kill the fucker. Then, maybe then, she would feel marginally better.

The door of her room opened, and Sharon poked her head in. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but when she saw that Angela was awake, she pursed her lips. "Good, you're awake," she said brusquely. "Come to the kitchen. We have to talk."

Angie padded barefoot to the kitchen behind Sharon. Sharon pointed to the table. "Sit." She busied herself getting two mugs from the cupboard and filled them with steaming coffee. Carrying them over to the table, she put one in front of Angela, and settled down next to her. "So," she began conversationally, "why don't we start by you telling me some things?"

"Like what?" Angela asked warily. This was a side to Sharon that she had never suspected. The usually cheery and expressive woman's face was inscrutable.

"Like what your real name is, and what Ben's was. Why you're both hiding your identities. And if you've heard of the cat burglars who have a habit of stealing really big stones. That would be great, for starters."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did! **

**A/N: To all my reviewers, you guys are the best! I have a vague idea of where everything is leading, but I welcome suggestions. Thanks so much for the great reviews. Makes a girl feel real appreciated:)**

**Watching. Living. Being: Chapter 6**

"I don't understand what you mean," Angela began carefully, keeping her eyes on Sharon's.

Sharon narrowed her own. "I'm not an idiot, Angie," she snapped. "I knew you were hiding the day you stepped into the bar. And Ben?" she laughed sarcastically. "The first couple of weeks, he never answered when you called his name. Your skin is always covered, and you flinch when people touch you. I know you said that you have a skin disease, but I think it's more than that. There's also the fact that neither of you come to work the days the burglaries have happened. And, you lapse into a Southern accent when you're excited." She paused. "I could go on," she added meaningfully. "But I don't think I need to, do I?"

"No, you don't," Angela said slowly. "You're not an idiot. I never thought you were."

Sharon's face crumpled. "Then why have you been lying to me? Didn't you trust me?"

Angela sighed. "It's not that I didn't trust you. Ben," she choked out the name. "Ben and I were both trying to put the past behind us. We didn't see the need to bring it up at all. I guess we thought that by doing that, it would never come back to haunt us."

"Can you tell me now, at least?" Sharon pleaded. "I'm so tired of pretending to be okay with everything, when I'm not."

"I can tell you about me," Angela said, after a long pause. "But I can't about Ben, or the burglaries. At least not yet. Listen," she snapped out when Sharon opened her mouth to protest. "Whoever killed Ben is obviously someone from his past or someone who knows something. They might come after you. So the less you know, the better."

Sharon closed her mouth with a snap. "I guess that makes sense," she conceded grudgingly. "Tell me about you."

Angela closed her eyes. This was the hardest part, dredging up her past. It had been more than two years since she had contacted the Professor. She would sometimes see the X-Men on television, but she had contacted no one. She had meant what she had said. She was not going back.

"My name is Anna Darkholme. I'm a mutant," she began, keeping her eyes on Sharon's face. "My 'power'", she said this bitterly, "is that I can touch people and absorb their memories, and energy. With other mutants, I can also absorb their powers. That's why I keep my skin covered," she continued. "I can't control it, and people who touch me…" she shuddered.

"Go on," Sharon said, her eyes full of sympathy.

Encouraged by that, Angela doggedly continued, focusing her eyes on a spot on the table. "I was part of a mutant team, the X-Men, under Professor Charles Xavier. He formed The X-Men to protect humans and mutants and to show the world that mutants are humans too. The X-Men were trying to help me control my powers, but something inside of me kept blocking any progress. After 10 years, there was no change, and I realised that my life was going to be that way forever unless I did something about it. So I left. Changed my name, my looks. None of them know where I am. I have no real family," she continued. "My brother is away somewhere finding himself, and I don't know who my father is. The X-Men were the closest thing to a family I had, but after I came here, Ben was it."

"What about your mother?" Sharon asked.

"She's dead to me."

Something passed over Sharon's face, but still looking at the table, Angela missed it. "What was your codename?" Sharon asked, gently. "I've heard of the X-Men. You all have codenames don't you?"

Angela smiled sadly. "I was Rogue."

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Two weeks had gone by, and the police were no closer to finding Ben's killer. In fact, though the investigation remained open, Angela was convinced that they were doing nothing to solve the case. Standing in their kitchen, she replayed the scene in her mind. Whoever had shot Ben would have had to be a good shot, because the police had told her that it looked like the shot had come from directly outside the window, as if the person had been standing on the other side, which wasn't possible, because they lived three stories up.

The sound of the door opening had her whirling around, her hands brought up in a defensive fighting stance. She stayed where she was when the woman stepped in.

"Who are you?" Angela asked. The woman gave a start of surprise and whirled around to look at her. There was something familiar about the blonde, but Angela couldn't quite put her finger on it. "What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that question," the blonde snapped. Flashing a badge at Angela, she continued, "Lieutenant Dorian, Homicide. And you are?"

"Angela Logan," Angela said. "And I live here. Ben was my roommate." She paused, narrowed her eyes. "I've been a regular at the police station these past couple of weeks. I've never seen you."

"I've been away on an undercover assignment," Dorian snapped. "And you're in a crime scene."

"I just came to pick up some of my things. Detective Bannon said it was okay."

"Well, Detective Bannon isn't in charge of this investigation, I am. So get your stuff and go."

"Well, you're real personable, aren't you?" Angela growled.

"I can be more personable, if you like."

"Just find the person who killed Ben, Lieutenant. That's your job, right?"

"Yeah, and if you get out of the way, I can start doing it."

Furious, Angela stormed out. She'd leave all right, but she wouldn't be going far. Something about Lieutenant Dorian struck her as off.

Alone in the apartment, Carol Danvers breathed a sigh of relief. "That was close," she whispered. Then she headed straight to what used to be Ben's room. Pulling on her gloves, she booted up his computer while doing a standard sweep of his room. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she sat in front of the computer. The desktop showed a collage of pictures of him with a bunch of other people, most notably the roommate.

_So you guys were tight_, she mused. _Could be you told her something. Well, if I can't get information from your machine, I might as well get it out of her. Let's see if you squeal, Angela_.

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	7. Chapter 7

_Once again, thanks so much for all the reviews. Sorry it's taken me so long to update, but I promise to try to update again soon. Let me know how you guys want this to turn out. If I like the idea, I'll try to incorporate it into the story. Also, don't forget to R&R as that makes my day! _

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though! **

**Watching. Living. Being: Chapter 7**

She had always hated police stations. As a child, she had seen her father go in, and never walk back out. As a sullen and rebellious teen, she had been dragged in time and time again for petty crimes she'd committed, and sometimes for crimes she'd had nothing to do with. As a young woman who'd had the magic of a first kiss violently taken away from her, she'd been questioned relentlessly about the comatose state of the boy she'd kissed, and she'd watched as disgust and horror replaced the concern and sympathy on the policeman's when he had finally realised _what_ she was.

Much later, as a member of the X-Men, she had been taken in along with the rest of the team, simply for being in the right place at the wrong time.

As Angela Logan, her record was clean. But she still hated to be anywhere near a police station. It was a testament to how much she loved Ben that she had been there everyday since the murder.

Now she strode determinedly into the station. She was tired of waiting and needed to know if they were any closer to solving Ben's murder.

"Hi, Officer Parker," she smiled at the man behind the desk "I'm here to see Detective Bannon."

"Hey Miss Logan," Parker smiled at her. "I'm afraid Bannon isn't here yet. He's out on assignment."

Angela frowned. "What about Lieutenant Dorian?"

"Dorian's not back from an assignment. Been away for nearly a month now," he told her.

"Really?" she asked, puzzled. "I just saw her yesterday."

"Her?" he was surprised. "I think you might have got the wrong person Miss Logan. Lieutenant Dorian is a guy."

"That's impossible," she said shocked. "She introduced herself as Lieutenant Dorian. In fact, she was quite rude about it."

He looked at her intently. "You sure she said LAPD?" he asked, "and not something else?"

"I'm sure," Angie insisted. "She literally kicked me out of my own apartment. She…" Angie paused. Pieces of the puzzle had just fallen into place for her.

"She what?"

Angela shook her head. "Nothing. I'm not sure what she said actually." She looked down and said softly, "I'd been having a cry, and well, she caught me at a bad time. She could have said something else, I'm not sure."

"Are you sure, Ms Logan?" he asked her. "If she said anything else, if she threatened you, you can tell me. We'll keep you safe."

She smiled at him. "I'm sure, Officer Parker. It's my mistake. But thank you for offering. It was really kind." She looked around. "I'll come by tomorrow to see Detective Bannon. Thanks again."

As she casually strolled out of the station, her brain was furiously sifting through images and memories. She knew she'd seen 'Detective Dorian' before. But where? Then it suddenly hit her. The blonde at bar! The one who had looked at her as if she knew all her secrets. Could she have had something to do with Ben's murder? Could she have done it?

With these questions running through her head, Angela realised that there was one way to find out. _Le Chat_ would have to make a reappearance. Angela squared her shoulders, and headed to her apartment.

Unaware that she had been discovered, Carol Danvers continued to run Angela Logan through her computer. So far her record seemed clean. _Too clean_, Carol thought. Not even a parking ticket to her name. She shook her head. She had to dig deeper. There was more to Angela Logan than meets the eye, and Carol Danvers was just the person to find out.


	8. Chapter 8

_Hey guys, this is my longest chapter yet, I think. Things are getting to a head, but I'm still welcoming any ideas. Thanks to all who have been reviewing so far, and hopefully the rest of the story lives up to your expectations. To my beta, Mel, thanks babe. Appreciate it. _

_Don't forget to review. I take all criticism and pointers seriously. Of course, my favourite reviews are the ones that say nice things! :) _

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though! **

**Watching. Living. Being: Chapter 8**

_I don't think this is a good idea, Rogue_. The remnants of Jean's psyche warned.

_It's Angela, Jean. _

_Just because you changed your name, doesn't mean you're not Rogue_, Jean argued.

_Go away, Phoenix._ Angela forced Jean back into her mental cage and looked around for the mutants who could help her.

_It's been a while, Stripes._

_Ah know, Logan. It's getting harder to control when Ah let some out. So Ah just stopped. _

_Ya know ya can talk to Chuck about this._

_Ah don't want to. _

_Your call, kid. Just thought you should know. _

_Yeah. For now, Ah need your help. Yours, Kitty's and Storm's. _

_Of course, child. _

_I don't think I want to, Rogue. You, like, totally haven't been keeping in touch! _

_Angela, Kitty. And ya do realise Ah don't need ya permission, right?_

_Whatever, _Kitty sulked.

Talking to her psyches always drained her, which is why this was only the third time she'd done it in years. But it helped her control over them when she talked to them. And sometimes she talked to them simply because she missed them and wanted to hear their voices.

She forced herself to relax, eyes closed, senses alert. Taking a deep breath, she let the Wolverine take over.

Her nose flared, taking in the different scents and smells that permeated her apartment. There was only one she was looking for. When she found it, she snarled softly and followed it to where it was the strongest. Ben's room. The snarl turned to a growl when her nose led her to her own room. Her sanctuary. She flexed her hands, and the bone claws tore through layers of bone, muscle, skin and leather. Hissing in pain, she stared at the claws, trying to decide if she needed them. After a brief internal debate, she flexed her hands again, and they slid home.

Once she'd committed the scent to memory, she walked into her closet. She studied it, making sure that nothing had been moved before kneeling down. Moving the shoe boxes aside, she tapped the base of the closet, looking for the hidden mechanism Ben had installed there before she had moved in. Finding it, she depressed the button, then scrambled out of the way when the false bottom began to move.

Sliding through the small opening, she pressed the button on the other side, effectively sealing herself inside the tiny tunnel. Moving forward on her hands and knees, she moved through the tunnel with a surety and confidence that spoke of long practice. For the next ten minutes, she made no sound, just continued moving down the tunnel.

Turning left, she scooted into yet another tunnel before finally stopping and pushing open a trapdoor that swung shut the second she slid through. Immediately, she crouched, letting her senses study the dark room, making sure that there was nothing that didn't belong there. Satisfied that everything was where it was supposed to be, she straightened. "Swamp Rat."

Light flooded the room, highlighting the sophisticated computer system Ben had installed. "Welcome, Angel," the computer said. "It has been approximately nineteen days, six hours and thirty seven minutes since your last visit." It paused. "Where is Devil?"

"Devil isn't coming back, Darling," Angie said sadly. "It's just you and me now."

There was a pause. Then, "I understand. Shall I remove Devil from all administrative access?"

"Not yet. I need to see some of the files first. But first, I want to run a search. Description only."

"Of course, Angel. Would you like to run a manual search or an automatic one?"

"Let's start with an automatic. I'll switch to manual later. Start a persons search. Female, Caucasian, between twenty five to forty. Honey blonde hair, blue eyes, between five feet seven inches to five feet nine inches. Weight between one hundred and fifteen pounds to one hundred and thirty pounds. She seems to be very fit, most likely in some government agency. Check the FBI, CIA, DEA, military and any other government agency."

"Acknowledged. Working. This might take a few hours, Angel. What would you like to do while waiting?"

"Grant me access to all of Devil's files, Darling. Password: Samantha four four oh six."

"Acknowledged. Devil's files displayed on left screen. Manual only."

"Thank you, Darling," Angela sat down and started scrolling through all of Ben's files, hoping one might give her the answers she was looking for.

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Rolling away from the computer, Angela sighed. The Ben she knew was fiercely protective of the less fortunate, the minorities, anyone different. That was what had drawn him to her in the first place, the vulnerability she had hidden behind the prickly exterior. And though he had hidden nothing from her about his past and the things he had done, reading about them made it harder to swallow. She could never reconcile Ben as Trevor Martin, the assassin. But that was who he had been. A killer. He hadn't killed for money, or for pleasure. He had killed to keep his lover from being murdered. But that didn't change what he had done, and he had never made any excuses for it.

Angela remembered her reaction when he had told her who he really was.

"You're a killer?" she had gasped.

"I wasn't just a killer. I was an assassin. Every few weeks, I'd get a picture in the mail and I'd be given forty eight hours to do the deed."

"But why? Why would you do it?" She was shocked and disgusted. She had never killed anyone in her life, she didn't think she ever could.

He'd looked at her. "Have you ever loved someone so much you'd do anything for them?" he'd asked.

"You know I have."

"What if that person was held hostage, and you had done everything you could to find out where they were, but you couldn't and the only way to make sure that they would be okay is to do what you were told?"

She's just stared at him in shock. "But wasn't there someone you could have gone to for help?"

"Who'd help a gay mutant?" he'd asked bitterly. "And I was afraid of what would happen if they found out I was trying to get help. And to be honest, I was afraid. It was the government, Angie. How was I supposed to go up against them by myself? Turning invisible is great, but not against people who know what you are and are equipped to take you down."

In the end, it hadn't mattered. Trevor's lover had been executed anyway. And Trevor, in his grief and rage, had blown up the Oklahoma facility where his lover had been kept, as well as two other facilities before going underground. He had set up this operation within weeks of moving into the apartment. He stole what he could, when he could and had slowly added to his savings until he had enough to start a base of operations. He became a modern day Robin Hood, stealing from the rich, giving to the poor. He hadn't been above keeping some of the things for himself, but only when he needed the money to upgrade the equipment. He'd cut all ties to his past, wanting, needing a new start. There was only one link to his past he had kept: the name Ben. It was the name of his murdered lover.

Until Angela had come to LA, he had kept to himself, never letting anyone get too close. When he met her, he'd recognised a like spirit.

On days when he was feeling maudlin, he'd tell her that she had saved him, that she'd become his reason for living. And she'd tell him the same.

When he was alive, she had never understood how he could have killed, no matter what the provocation. She knew now that if and when she ever came across his murderer, she wouldn't think twice.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: First of, a huge apology for the late update (I know I seem to be doing that all the time). I have an excuse this time - a good one. I started a new job, and my personal life feels like it is in shambles. But that's no excuse. If this chapter is too angsty, I'm sorry, that's my personal demons spilling out._

_The story is also getting longer than I originally planned. So sorry guys. I think maybe 20 chaps or more. That means waiting for me to update. Yikes!!_

_Also, I saw so many hits for the story, but very few reviews. For those who have been faithfully reviewing (you know who you are!) thank you so much. You guys are the reason I'm still writing. And to the rest of you, please give me your opinion, so I don't constantly churn out trash. Thanks!_

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though! **

**Watching.Living.Being: Chapter 9**

Carol Danvers sat outside Sharon's apartment building, waiting for Angela Logan to leave. Sharon had left earlier to go to work, and when Carol had flown up to investigate, she'd found Angela curled up in front of the television, her eyes red from weeping, watching a Christmas video of Trevor Martin.

Carol felt a pang of guilt, which surprised her. Trevor Martin had been dangerous. He had killed good men when he had blown up three government facilities. She had studied his file extensively and knew about the other political candidates that he had assassinated. Trevor Martin had been a political terrorist, a murderer, and he had deserved to die.

So why was Angela Logan still mourning him?

Carol shook her head. It didn't matter. What mattered was finding and destroying the files that Martin had stolen from all three bases before disappearing. He had left everything to Angela, which meant that the files were with her, whether she knew it or not.

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It had taken Darling almost two days to complete the search for the mysterious blonde. Who knew that there were so many women who matched that description? It had taken Angela another three days to narrow her search down to six potential matches. Once she got near them, all she had to do was let the Wolverine out. He would find her quick enough. Angela smiled grimly. Then, they would see.

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_Okay, so it wasn't Patricia Senton_, Angela said to herself, mentally crossing that name of her list. She headed toward her bike, checking the address of the next woman. _Damn_, she thought. _That's clean on the other side of town_. Sighing, she started her bike.

Two blocks from her destination, Angela switched of her engine. Parking her bike in a corner, she pulled her jacket tighter around her and set of to the apartment. She looked around carefully before phasing through the door. As soon as she was in, she checked to make sure coast was clear before letting the Wolverine take over. The moment she did, a low growl escaped her throat. This was the scent of the woman she was looking for. She knew it.

"No way, Ted," she heard a voice coming from the back of the apartment. "I am not dressing up as a slutty nurse just to satisfy your nurse fetish!" There was a pause as Angela peered around the doorway. The woman, Carol Danvers, Angela remembered, was laughing at whatever the person on the other line was saying. A feral anger rose up in Angela, threatening to choke her. How dare this woman sit there and laugh when she had killed Ben and caused so much misery and pain? For a moment she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to just run Carol through with her claws, or to blast her with her optic blast, and watch the life leak out from her eyes just as she had watched Ben's. Only this time, she would enjoy every second.

When she heard Carol hang up the phone, she phased through the wall. She stood there for a long minute, waiting for Carol to notice her. When she finally did, Carol let out a short, piping scream. The plate she had been holding in her hand fell to the floor and shattered.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded. "And how the hell did you get in?"

"It's surprising what a mutant can do, isn't it, Lieutenant Dorian? Or should I say Carol Danvers?"

"You're a mutant?" Carol was shocked.

"Yes, and so was Ben," Angela snapped.

Carol looked confused. "Who's Ben?"

"Don't pretend you don't know," Angela said furiously. "Either you or one of your people killed him. I want to know why."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Carol insisted.

"Fine. If you want to play it that way. What were you doing pretending to be a police officer?"

"I am a police officer."

"No, you're not. Don't you think I would have checked?" Angela sneered.

"Fine," Carol conceded. "You want to know why? Your precious Ben, who's real name was Trevor Martin by the way, killed good men. Blew up three government facilities, effectively destroying years of research before disappearing. He assassinated political leaders who were at the height of their career."

"Do you expect me to be shocked?" Angela asked after a long pause. "_Ben_," she emphasised the name, "told me everything. He told me why he did it. Do you know why?"

"He was a terrorist," Carol said. "They never have real reasons."

"He did, you smug bitch," Angela snapped. "Your precious government kidnapped and tortured his lover, a man named Benjamin because they found out that Trevor could turn invisible. The only way Ben could ensure his safety was to do as he was told. Your government ordered those people assassinated. As for blowing up those facilities, he only did that because they killed Benjamin anyway. After Trevor did what he was told, after the all the politicians had been assassinated, they killed Benjamin. That is why Trevor did what he did."

"I don't believe you," Carol said, after a long pause.

"Why should you?" Angela asked bitterly. "You're one of them. Besides, I'm not here to convince you of Ben's innocence."

"Then, what do you want?" Carol demanded.

"I want Ben back, alive and safe. But since we both know that that's not going to happen, I want to take from you what you took from him."

"I didn't take anything from Ben! I was doing my job!"

"Is that how you justify it to yourself? That you were just doing your job? Ben, and every other person you've murdered were just people who wanted to be left alone, people who wanted a new life. You took it from them!" Angela said furiously.

"So you'll kill me. But will that bring your precious Ben back?" Carol sneered.

"No," Angela said with finality. "But it will stop you from murdering another person who was just looking for a second chance."

"You'll have to kill me first, and I can tell you now that's not going to be as easy as you think," Carol told her, lifting herself inches of the ground. She watched Angela's shocked expression with a little smirk. "Surprised? I'll understand if you're having second thoughts."

The mocking tone cut through Angela's shock more that anything else. "You wish," she retorted.

Taking that as a signal, Carol flew straight toward Angela, the smirk never leaving her lips. With a smirk of her own, Angela phased through the wall. The smirk disappeared, however, when the wall she had just phased through crashed down before a very angry Carol Danvers came through it. Before she could do more than stare in shock, Carol executed a military style kick that caught Angela directly in her midsection. The impact caused Angela to fly into the wall three feet behind her. She heard the sound of something breaking before waves of pain hit her. _Oh_, she thought vaguely, _she can fly AND she has super strength. That explains it_. Then she passed out.

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The first thing Angela thought when she came to was _ouch_. The next thing she realised that she couldn't move her arms and legs. Opening her eyes, she found herself bound hand and foot to a chair that she vaguely recalled seeing in Carol's kitchen. She opened her mouth to say something, and realised that she was gagged as well.

"Awake are we?" she heard Carol ask a second before she walked into view.

Her mind working furiously, Angela groaned through the gag. She closed her eyes, and tried to breathe as deeply as her broken ribs allowed. Slowly, she let a piece the Wolverine out. She groaned again when she felt the painful healing process begin.

"What do we do with you?" Carol asked conversationally, sitting down in front of Angela. "I could let you go, but you'll probably just come back and try to kill me again. Or," Carol smiled, "I could just take you in as the terrorists' partner. What do you think?"

The last of the healing process ending, Angela let her head hang down, as if in defeat. A single bone claw in each hand emerged, waiting for the moment to slice through the ropes.

"It didn't take that long for you to give up, did it?" Carol sneered, putting her face close to Angela's. When Angela still didn't answer, Carol fisted her hand in Angela's hair and yanked. A syringe Angela hadn't noticed before was in her hand and in Angela's neck before she could move. At the same instant, the claws cut through the rope binding Angela's hands and she brought them up, reflexively holding on to Carol's face.

For a second, green eyes stared into blue. Then she was assaulted with a barrage of memories and emotions. Carol's hand came up to push Angela's away at the same time her knees buckled, but as soon as she did, the influx of memories and emotions came faster.

"Let go," Angela panted, trying, and failing to pull her hands away.

"I can't! What are you doing to me?"

"I can't stop it. Why can't I stop it?"

"Please, don't kill me. Please!!"

"I don't want to," Angela wept. "But I can't stop it. What was in that syringe?"

"Just…a small…sedative," Carol gasped, struggling harder and harder to breathe. Her pulse slowed, and her eyes fluttered closed.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I can't stop it." Angela kept on crying. "Please don't die. Not like this." After a long minute where she fought against the invasion of memories, she realised that they had stopped. She looked down at her hands, which were still holding on to Carol's face. Carol's face was ashen, and she was not breathing. "Oh God, oh God, please no. Please don't be dead!" she wept, finally freeing herself from Carol's grip.

_MURDERER!_ _You killed me! _Angela jerked. With a small shock she realised that the Carol in her head was the strongest personality she'd ever had. Feeling dizzy and light-headed, Angela shakily got to her feet. Carefully she stepped over Carol's body, before collapsing on the floor.

_BITCH! MURDERER! You killed me!_

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean too!" Angela protested, weeping. She could feel the fragile control she had over the personalities in her head slipping before she let the blackness take over.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Wow, I wrote this in an hour! SkyRogue, you are a fantastic author and I'm going to keep bugging you to finish your story! :) Anyway, a huge huge thanks for the reviews for the last chapter. They were so great. They made the week infinitely better for me. So thanks again! _

_You know the drill. Please read and review! _

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though! **

**Watching.Living.Being: Chapter 10**

_**2 months later**_

"I'm getting it," Jamie Madrox yelled when the doorbell rang. But Jubilation Lee beat him to it. She skidded to a stop at the front of the door and aimed a smug smile at Jamie before yanking the door open, coming face to face with a beautiful brunette whose clothes and thin frame had seen better days.

"Hi," Jubilee said brightly. "Can I help you?"

"Hi," the woman said softly, staring at Jubilee. "I need to see the Professor."

"Sure," Jubilee said, stepping aside to let her in. "I'll get him." She started to wonder off, then stopped and turned. "What's your name?"

"Angela Logan."

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Professor Xavier's head whipped around in shock. "Who did you say it was?" he asked Jubilee.

"Angela Logan."

"I see. Could you please escort her to my study and inform her that I'll join her shortly?" After Jubilee left, he pasted a smile on his face and looked back at Gambit. "I understand your need to leave, Remy. But perhaps we can continue this discussion tomorrow morning?" At Gambit's scowl, he elaborated, "Angela Logan is someone I haven't seen in a long time and she's in trouble. I would like to see if I can offer any assistance."

The Cajun nodded wearily and left. Charles looked at his retreating back thoughtfully. Remy hadn't been the same since Rogue had left. At first, he had been wilder than ever, but his jokes and drinking had had a bitter edge to it. Eventually, the wildness disappeared and he had retreated into himself. He kept to himself, and had begun to invoke the same sort of fear the Wolverine inspired in the students when he was in a bad mood. The only people Remy would talk to were Storm, Piotr and Kitty. Probably because they had been the closest to Rogue. Now he had decided to return to New Orleans. Though he was still exiled for Julien's death, he needed to see his family. He needed to do something that would take him away from memories of the woman he had loved and lost.

Sighing, Charles wheeled himself out of the room, heading towards his study. He wondered how she looked now and what had brought her here after so many years. He shut his mind from the waves of anxiety, despair and anger coming from the room and instead focused on the person in the room. The brunette had her back to him. She was much thinner than the last time he had seen her, and his eyebrows creased in a worried frown.

"Hello Angela."

Her eyes filled with tears when she heard the voice. "Professor…Charles. I didn't know where else to go." She looked at him sorrowfully. "I hope you can help me. I really do."

Charles stiffened. "You're not Angela."

The woman smiled bitterly. "Unfortunately for the both of us, I am."

"What happened? What have you done to Rogue?" he demanded.

"I did nothing to her! The bitch absorbed me. Now my body is lying in a coma in the hospital."

Charles opened his mouth, but he was cut off by the change in her expression. The blue eyes flashed to emerald. "Professor, ya have ta help. She's tryin' ta lock meh up."

"Rogue?" he asked, shocked. Then, "Rogue!" when her eyes rolled back into her head and she slid limply to the floor. _Logan, I require your assistance immediately._

The Wolverine burst into the room, claws extended, a growl in his throat. When he saw the unconscious Angela on the floor and an obviously unharmed Professor X staring at him, he relaxed and took a deep breath. Then he stiffened all over again. "Stripes. She was here."

"Logan, what I'm about to tell you must be kept in confidence," Charles told him urgently. When Wolverine only growled and continued looking around, he sighed. "The woman on the floor is Rogue. But something has happened and she's not fully herself."

At his words, Logan leaped to the fallen woman and lifted her up. Sniffing the air in front of her, he said, "Smells like Stripes all right. But there's something different."

Her eyes snapped open, burning blue. "That's because she's got me in there with her," the woman said, slamming her fist in Logan's face. He yowled and dropped her, more from shock than pain. She landed lightly on her feet and smirked at him.

"What the hell did you do to Stripes?" he demanded, his claws coming out with a loud _snikt_.

She sighed irritably before leaning on the professor's table. "As I was explaining to Charles here," she gestured, "your 'Stripes' sucked the life out of me. And I mean that literally." She turned to Charles. "I want my body back. I want my life back."

"If I promise to help you, will you let her go?"

"Sure. But you'd better make it quick. I've almost got her in the cage. So-," She bent over the desk, eyes squeezed shut. "Professor, she ain't gonna let meh go," it was undeniably Rogue's voice this time, and she raised her pleading green eyes to his. "Ah've been fighting her but she wants meh dead. So ya can't help her. Ya have ta help meh lock her away. It's tha only way." She groaned, pressing her hand against her temple. "She's fighting meh. She can't hear mah thoughts, I've managed ta block her. But ah don't know how long that will last." Her eyes met the Professor's. "She's crazy. She wants ta kill us all. If ya can't get her out of mah mind, if ya can't lock her up…" she took a deep breath. "Ya'll have ta kill meh. It's tha only way ta stop her. She's superstrong and she can fly." Her face contorted, and when her eyes opened, they were blue, and, Charles noted, just a little mad.

"What did that bitch say to you?" she demanded, stalking towards him. Logan was suddenly there, blocking her. She laughed. "Do you honestly think you and your adamantium bones will stop me?" she asked before giving him a negligent push which sent him crashing into the opposite wall. "Oops," she said, smiling. "I guess I don't know my own strength. Now old man," she turned back to Charles. "What did she say?"

"I'd appreciate it if you tried not to break any furniture or bones while you're here," Charles said mildly, hiding his shock and horror and what Rogue had told him. "She wants the same thing you want. You out of her body. And control over it again."

"Then what's the problem?" Carol pouted. "I want out, she wants me out. So do it."

"I can promise to try, Miss…?"

"Danvers. Carol Danvers. And I don't want you to try. I want you to do it. I've arranged to have my body sent here. From what I managed to get off Angela-Rogue-whatever the bitch's name is before she managed to block me out, you have a huge ass Bat Cave with the works. We can put me there and we can work on getting me back in me there. Now, Charles," she lowered her voice and leaned toward him, "you have two weeks to get me out of this body and back into mine. Or I'm keeping this body and," she tapped the side of her head, "putting your precious Rogue in a cage."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: I am so very sorry about the delay in updating. The truth is, my X-Men muse ran away, then I hired a couple that didn't work out. But my original muse is back(we've mad up, thank god!) and I've updated!! Yay!! I'm hoping for at least one chap a month. Thanks for your patience, and my beautiful beta Svadifari for the betaing, and much needed kick in the a. _

_Please review. They make me happy and make me want to write! :)_

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though! **

Jubilation Lee was having fun taunting Jamie Madrox. She enjoyed the way the blush crept up his face as he stuttered to find an appropriate response to her latest taunt, and made her want to grab him and kiss him.

To Jamie, it seemed that all Jubilee did was get on his case. She was everywhere he was, doing the things he wanted to do before he could, and she did it all with that smirk that made him want to beat her senseless. So he went to Bobby, a.k.a. Iceman, the resident prankster, and together they had devised a plan to get back at Jubilee.

Now, Jamie, being a teenager, can be excused for not realizing that Jubilee's constant taunting was her way of getting his attention. But Bobby, who was an adult, and who had done the same thing to get the attention of one Lorna Doone, can not.

Which is why, when Professor X wheeled himself into the Rec Room, it was to a screaming match between Lorna and Bobby. Lorna was holding a mud covered Jubilee, who was uncharacteristically sober, and Bobby was hiding behind a few Jamie's, head occasionally popping up to scream something back at Lorna. Mind reader or not, Xavier thought with an inward chuckle, Bobby was sleeping on the couch tonight.

He waited patiently until there was a pause in the screaming. "Bobby, Jubilee, Jamie," he said gravely. "There is to be an emergency meeting for the senior X-Men in 20 minutes in my office. I would like to see you there. Lorna," he looked at her, "You are welcome to join us, but please be aware that this is a Code Blue."

They gasped. "Code Blue?" Jubilee asked, speaking quietly.

"Yes."

She nodded. "Okay, Professor. I'll just get cleaned up. Looks like this coat is a loss." A lone tear slid down her cheek. Avoiding looking at Jamie or Bobby, she left the room, followed by Lorna who seared the two men with a scathing glance. Once the women had left the room, he fixed Bobby and Jamie with a stern look. "I don't want to know," he said before either one of them could say anything. "I'm sure you have a very good reason for what happened to Jubilee's coat, which is the only thing she has left of her mother." At the matching guilty looks on their faces, he sighed and wheeled himself out of the room, leaving them to sort out their thoughts.

*********************************************************

"So he didn't tell you what it was about? Just that it was a Code Blue?" Kitty asked Bobby. "We haven't had a Code Blue since the Phoenix incident!"

"Jamie thinks it has something with the woman who showed up this afternoon to see Professor X," Bobby told her, trying to catch Lorna's eye.

"What woman?" Kitty demanded. "What woman, Bobby?" she repeated when he didn't answer immediately.

"Some Alyssa or something," he replied, distracted, still trying to get Lorna to look at him.

"Alyssa?" Kitty frowned, trying to figure out if she knew her. When her mind came up blank, she turned back to Bobby, who, failing to get Lorna to look at him, was staring balefully at the back of Jamie's head, putting all the blame on Multiple. "But Code Blue refers specifically to current or former X-Men! And I don't remember any Alyssa. Unless it's someone who wants to be an X-Man!"

"Kitty, _mon chere_, maybe we wait to see who it is, eh?" Remy told her from his place on the couch.

"But Remy…" she began, but was interrupted when Charles wheeled in, accompanied by Logan.

"X-Men," he greeted them. No one really paid attention. They were all staring at the woman, who had her head turned away and was looking at the professor. "I would like you all to meet an old friend, Angela Logan."

At the introduction, Angela turned. Kitty and Jean gasped. Bobby's mouth fell open and Remy, who'd been idly shuffling his cards, froze. "Hey guys," she said softly. "It's been a while, huh?"

The room erupted. And through the chaos, no one noticed when Remy slipped out, except, maybe Angela.

*********************************************************

"But where have you _been_?" Kitty demanded through her tears, much later. She'd been hugging Angela in wonder every few minutes. "It's been _years_!"

"In LA," Angela responded, her gaze on the toddler who was dancing to the music in his head. "So, is that my godchild? Because," she grinned, "he's doing what you always do."

"What?" Momentarily distracted by the mention of her son, Kitty beamed. "Yes, he's such a good boy. Aren't you, Brian?" she cooed, picking him up. "Come meet your Aunt Rogue." She hesitated, meeting Angela's eyes. "I mean, your Aunt Angela. She's your god mother."

Sober brown eyes met green ones as Brian studied Angela. Although he looked very much like Kitty, the black hair was most definitely Piotr's, as was the sober, serious expression on Brian's face.

"Hello, handsome," she murmured. Then, without warning, Brian leaned forward and touched one hand to her face. Kitty and Angela froze before leaping apart.

Clutching him close to her chest, Kitty ran her hand over him. "Brian, baby, are you okay?" she asked anxiously. Brian dodged her roaming hands and beamed. "She's pretty, mama."

"He's fine," Angela whispered it. "Kit, nothing happened."

Kitty's hand stilled. "But, how?" she asked. "I thought you said that you still couldn't control it."

"Ah-I can't," she shook her head weakly. "I don't understand."

_What don't you understand? _The voice echoed in her head. _You can't control your powers. But __**I **__can._

"Carol!" Angela gasped. She looked at Kitty, who had gone pale at the name. She was clutching a squirming Brian tighter to her. "I need to see the Professor," she gasped. "He'll know what to do."

_Jeez, I wasn't gonna knock mommy and her baby out_, Carol grumbled. _I figured by blocking your powers, there'd be one less person up here with me. It's getting crowded in here, you know._

_You weren't? _Angela asked, surprised.

_Of course not. But run to your Professor, if you want. I don't mind. I wouldn't mind taking another look at Wolverine either. He is yummy._

Angela blanched and looked at Kitty, who was still staring at her in shock. "I'll talk to you later Kit," she said, and hurried out of the room.

And walked straight into the last person she wanted to see at the moment – Remy.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: 2 chapters in 2 days! My muse is on a roll!!!! Woooohooooooooooooooooo!!_

_You know the drill. Please read and review! _

**Disclaimer: Yes, I understand that I don't own ANY of'em. Doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though! **

He was an idiot. A stupid, full-blown, idiot. Of course she'd be with Kitty. They had been best friends, and she was Brian's god mother. Where else would she be? It didn't matter that he was looking for Piotr, _his _best friend and the father of _his _god son. He should have known. Idiot.

Gods she was beautiful, although he'd have preferred to see her with her original hair colour, that white streak a vivid contrast to all that beautiful red. But her eyes were the same, and her lips…_snap out of it LeBeau! _He shook his head mentally, and watched the shock on her face change to one of appreciation, as she gave him a once over.

"Well, well," she purred, running her hand over his chest. "They do grow them fine here. What's your name, handsome?"

Gambit opened his mouth, to say what, he didn't know, when he realized her eyes were not the bright green they were a few moments ago, but a clear blue. "Rogue?" he asked uncertainly.

"Not Rogue," she answered. "But you must be Gambit." She moved closer. He moved back. She grinned, a predatory grin that terrified the male in him and moved forward again. He stepped back. "Now I can understand why she keeps thinking about you. You _are_ yummy. It must be in the water. Even that guy with the red glasses was hot."

His back hit the wall, and he gulped. A voice in his head was taunting him. The infamous Remy LeBeau, slick thief, charming ladies man, was terrified of the woman in front of him.

"Why so scared, sweetie?" she asked. "I promise I won't hurt you…much."

She tilted up to kiss him, eyes fluttering close. And in that moment, she looked just like the Rogue he had loved that he leaned down, his lips almost touching hers, when she collapsed, her hands holding her head and gasping with the pain.

"Rogue?" he bent down, intending to help her up, when she pushed him violently away, sparing one anguished look before running towards the stairs.

Remy just lay where he'd fallen wondering how her eyes had turned back to their natural green.

*********************************************************

It hurt to breathe, Angela thought in surprise as she burst out of the mansion. She ran into the woods, needing to get away from emotions she thought she'd buried along with her old identity.

_Who are you kidding?_ Carol asked snidely. _You've always been Rogue. Angela was just the Band-Aid__on that wound_.

_You don't know me! _

_Unfortunately I do_, Carol responded. _I've been in your head for more than two months. I think I know you better than you even know yourself. So I know that, as much as you're trying to deny it, you're still in love with Gambit. _

Because she hadn't sounded like the bitch she generally was, Angela slowed down. _How do you know that?_ She wondered.

_I'm with your thoughts for company all day. _Carol snorted. _How can I not know? If it wasn't for your lack of control over your powers, you'd probably be having little Gambit's by now. But you never learned to control it, did you? _Her old anger resurfaced._ You took away my life._

Panting, Angela came to a complete stop. _I'm sorry,_ she said. _If I could go back and change that night, I would_.

_But you can't_, Carol responded bitterly. _And now I have to pay the price._

_Not just you, Carol. I'm paying too._

*********************************************************

Charles sighed. "If you want me to help you, Ms Danvers, you have to let me in."

"Can't help it, Charles. It's instinctive." Carol looked as frustrated as she felt.

"You need to relax," he told her.

"Well, there are two ways I usually relax," she said, grinning lazily. "Beer and sex. Since there's no alcohol in the school…" she trailed off and winked at Logan suggestively. "What do you say, Wolverine? I promise you'll enjoy it."

Logan choked. "No," he growled out.

"Suit yourself."

Charles sighed again. "Why don't we try a different technique?" he suggested mildly.

"Whatever," she sulked.

"Close your eyes, Ms Danvers," Charles ordered. "Now I want you to think about things that make you happy. A sunny day, the beach…flying." His eyes narrowed. "Think about that, the wind in your face, the joy of being weightless, of the peace in the air."

Her breath whooshed out, and she was suddenly flying. In her mind, she was heading home for a family weekend. They hardly saw each other, she and her family, and it would be nice to get away from all the stress of work. If she breathed just right, she could almost smell her mother Marie's apple pie. If she tilted her head just right, she'd hear her father and brothers' yelling at the TV, because whichever team they were rooting for was losing.

Then suddenly she was back in her prison. She looked around her in panic, only then noticing that Angela was standing there. Angela had tears trickling down her cheeks, and with a start Carol realised that her own cheeks were wet. "I'm so sorry," Angela whispered.

Carol's breath hitched. "What are you sorry for?" she snapped, voice cracking. "For taking me away from my family? For killing me? What?"

Angela took a shuddering breath. "For everything. I wanted to hurt you that night. You'd taken Ben away from me. And he was all I had. The only person in LA who understood me, who loved me. I wanted to kill you for that. But," her voice broke, "I've done the same thing to your family haven't I? I've taken away someone who was everything to them."

With a scream of rage, Carol flew at Angela hitting her over and over again. Angela didn't defend herself, nor did she retaliate. "Fight me, you bitch. Fight me!" Carol screamed.

"I can't," Angela whispered. "You're right. I do deserve to die for what I did to you."

With those words, Carol's fury spent itself. She collapsed on the ground, crying brokenly. Angela knelt next to her, hesitating. "If the Professor can't put you back in your body, you can have mine," she said softly. Carol's head jerked up. "But you have to promise not to hurt anyone else."

"I don't want your body," Carol spat out. "I want mine. And I won't promise that. The government deserves to know about the mutants in this facility. They are potential threats to national security."

"It's not a facility, it's a school!" Angela snapped back. "There are children here who fit in, who belong here when their parents, their friends turned their back on them. And you're a fine one to talk!" she rounded on Carol. "_You're _a mutant!"

The sound of a throat clearing stopped them. Charles stood before the two of them, looking solemn.

"Ladies," he began, "I see you started our session without me."


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: I'm really hoping the speedy update today is making up for the unforgivably lateness of my previous updates! Have to say, I'm having so much fun writing this again! Yay!_

_Please read and review._

**Disclaimer: Oh yeah, I own only Ben. Very sad but true. **

**WLB – Chap 13**

It wasn't the best time to be pounced on by his best friend's wife, Remy thought morosely. The ice pack was doing very little to dull the throbbing pain in his head. _Mon Dieu!_ Who would have thought that Rogue had that kind of strength? She must have been hyped up on something. But did she have to throw him that hard?

"…but apparently this Carol person was also a mutant. So…"

He was trying to remember what had happened, but that voice was distracting him from his focus.

"…she couldn't help it, Remy! That woman drugged her so she couldn't…"

The woman who had tried to kiss him wasn't really Rogue, he knew. It must have been one of her psyches acting up. Funny, he'd have thought that she would have gotten it all under control now.

"…Rogue, I mean, Angela told me how much she loved Ben. He was everything to her in LA. They even lived together…"

His head snapped up. Rogue (Angela??) had a lover? Someone she lived with? Did that mean she'd learned how to touch? And she hadn't come back, but had shacked up with some loser named _Ben_?

So much for love, Remy thought.

"So where's dis wonderful Ben now?" he asked disgustedly.

Kitty sighed, exasperated. "Weren't you listening at _all_?" she asked. "He died. Carol Danvers, the woman who's sharing Rogue's, I mean, Angela's body, killed him. In front of her."

"Why do you keep callin' her Angela, _petite_?" he asked, curiously, disregarding for the moment the rest of the things Kitty had told him. "Who's dis Angela?"

"You _weren't_ listening!" Kitty complained. "Rogue is Angela. She changed her name and looks when she went to LA. To start fresh. She doesn't like to be called Rogue now."

"Why not? Y' don' change your name jus'' like dat," he snapped his fingers together.

"She did," Kitty pointed out. "And she was doing great too, until this happened." When Gambit just continued to glare at nothing, she sighed. "She was broken, Remy." She touched his tense shoulder. "That's why she left. To fix herself."

"She don' look _fixed_ to Remy."

**************************************************************

"You want us to do _what?_" for once, both women sharing the same body agreed on something.

"Until I can ascertain if I can safely move Ms Danvers back to her body, I suggest you both alternate your identities," Charles explained patiently. "It's become very clear to me that forcing each other out of the way is taking a toll on your mental stability."

"Dude," Carol snorted. "I could tell you stories."

"Shut up," Angela snapped. "How long do we have to do this?" she asked the Professor.

"A few weeks at the very least," he said.

"So what, I take Monday, and life-stealer here takes Tuesday?" Carol asked.

"I'm sure you can both come to an agreement without calling each other names," he responded evenly. "And I can provide a mental block so you don't influence each others' actions. It will renew every 24 hours, giving the other personality to come to the fore."

Angela pressed her hands into her eyes. "Fine, we'll do that. Alternate days. Carol can take today. Thanks, Professor. You will let the rest know?" At his nod, she stopped struggling for control and faded into the recesses of her mind.

**************************************************************

"Jubilee," Jamie called, spotting Jubilee round the corner. "Hey, Jubilee, wait up!"

"What's up, Jamie?" she asked, not looking at him.

"Nothing," he blushed. "Just thought I'd say hello."

"Oh," she looked up, flushed, and looked quickly back down. "Hello."

There was an awkward silence, both not knowing what to say.

"I guess I should go," she finally said, her gum popping loudly.

"Uh, yeah.

She turned to leave when he caught her arm. "Hey Jubes," he said. "I'm sorry about your mom's coat."

She shrugged, although she'd shed bitter tears over the loss of that coat. It had been unsalvageable. "Don't worry about it," she said lightly.

"No," he said it firmly. "It was something important to you, and we-I ruined it. Although," he continued frowning, "it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't constantly been on my case."

She flushed scarlet. "What are you talking about?"

"You're everywhere, Jubilee!" he exclaimed, exasperated. "You're always around. It drove me crazy. Why do you like bugging me? What did I ever - mmph!"

She'd kissed him. Then she pulled away, not quite believing she'd done that.

"That's why," she whispered and hurried away

He stared after her, mouth agape.

**************************************************************

"Hey Glasses," Carol called out to Scott, as she passed him in the hallway. "You seen Hottie Wolvie?"

Scott choked. "Hottie Wolvie?"

"Yeah, you know. Sexy mofo, scares people, metal claws, likes to growl?"

_Who is currently hiding out in mine and Jean's room_, Scott thought to himself. "I think he's out in the garage."

"Thanks."

Watching her, Scott shook his head. It was amazing to hear phrases like 'Hottie Wolvie' come out of Rogue's mouth. He couldn't wait for the Danvers personality to be rid off. Maybe then Logan would stop sleeping in his room and he and his wife could actually do more than sleep in their bed.

**************************************************************

One week into their new truce, Angela walked listlessly to her room. It had been another pointless session that left her feeling angry and frustrated with the need to do something. She closed her eyes, remembering what the Professor had said.

_You need to let go of Angela, Rogue. She is one part of you, not all of you. And until you are ready to become Rogue again, I cannot help either you, Angela or Ms Danvers. _

She knew he was right. In her head, she knew that letting Angela go didn't mean that she was letting her life in LA go, that she wasn't letting Ben go. But it was difficult to be Rogue again, to accept that had always been Rogue, deep inside. And she was afraid of what being Rogue again would do to her.

She opened the door to her room, and stared at one of the main reasons she'd decided to stop being Rogue to begin with.

"What are you doing here, Gambit?" she asked wearily. She'd managed to avoid all contact with him since their last encounter. But here he was, looking very at ease on her bed.

"Gambit just want t' talk, chere."

"Well, I don't want to talk. Go away and leave me alone."

"Well, dat's too bad, then, cause Gambit's not going anywhere." As if to illustrate his point, he shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable on the bed.

"Fine," she stepped out of the room and shut the door. Maybe Logan would let her bunk in his room tonight.

"Rogue, wait," he called, the door to her room flying open.

She whirled around, furious. "My name," she strode forward, her finger stabbing his chest, "is Angela. Angela Logan. Not Rogue."

He winced, but didn't protest. Instead, he wrapped his hand around her gloved one. "Always Rogue t' Gambit, chere. Not'ing ever gonna change dat."

She brutally pushed away the emotions that churned inside. "I'm not that Rogue anymore, Gambit," she said firmly. "It's best if you remember that."

"Gambit let y' leave him once, chere. Not gonna happen again." He pressed a fleeting kiss on her lips and moved back before the pull could begin. Shocked, she stared at him. "_Je taime_," he whispered, before walking back to her room and closing the door gently in her face.

She stared at the closed door, let out a silent scream and went to find Logan.

**************************************************************


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: First of all, I would like to thank all you wonderful people who have been with the story from the very beginning. You have all been so patient and great with your reviews that it humbles me. I hop that this story continues to please you all. So this chapter is for all of you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. ___

**Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me…yada yada yada**

It made no sense, Angela thought to herself as she left the training room. Logan wasn't there. She'd looked for him in all his favourite spots in the mansion and she couldn't find him.

"Hey Scott," she called when she spotted him exit his bedroom, a tense expression on his face. "Have you seen Logan? I can't find him anywhere."

He started and looked behind him guiltily. "Ummm…no?"

She stared at him. "Scott Summers, are you lying to me?"

He flushed a dull red. "No!" he protested quickly, but again, he looked behind him into the shadowy bedroom

"Cyclops," her voice lowered to an almost growl. "Where is Wolverine?"

"Jean's calling me," he gasped out and turned towards the stairs. "Sorry, R-Angela, have to run." And with that, the X-Men's fearless leader bolted.

She watched him run in surprise. It was wrong, she mused, for a grown man to run like that. What was he hiding, she wondered, turning her gaze speculatively to his room, to act that way? She inched forward, hesitating only slightly before she pushed open the door and stepped in. Her mouth gaped unattractively before closing with a snap.

"Wolverine!"

The man huddling on the edge of the bed stared at her in abject terror.

*************************************************************

"Professor, I need to speak with her," Angela told Charles furiously. "She cannot be hitting on Logan, not while she's in _my _body! That's just all kinds of wrong."

"Angela, if you go to her in your present state of mind," Charles told her soothingly, "you'll undo all the hard work the three of us have done to bring you both this far."

"But Professor, she's hitting on _Logan_!" she almost shouted it.

Charles cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, yes, she is."

"We just help Logan hide when Carol takes over, usually," Scott said helpfully, then immediately realised his misstep when she turned on him.

"You mean you knew about this?" she demanded.

He winced and tried to side track. "I wouldn't say that, actually…" he began.

"You're a terrible liar, Cyclops," she told him icily. "You've never been good at it."

Scott wisely shut up.

"What should I do, Professor?" she asked. "Keep quiet and hope it blows over? It won't, you know. She's like a dog with a bone. And Logan is apparently the bone."

Scott choked, but again demonstrated uncanny intelligence by keeping his mouth shut when Angela shot him a death glare.

"I think this is something we can address in our session tomorrow, Angela," Charles told her kindly. He hesitated. "I do have some news about Ms Danvers condition, which I think might cheer her up considerably."

"You found a way to get the harpy out of me?" Angela asked hopefully.

"Not exactly. But," he said when her shoulders sagged, "her body has healed from the trauma. Once our sessions are over, we can begin to try to slowly move her back to her body. Although, Angela," he added, "we cannot move forward until you accept who you are."

She sighed. She'd realised that too, but had been hoping that things would work themselves out somehow. "I know, Professor." She turned to leave, hesitated, and turned back. "I can control my powers now, because Carol can. But what happens when she's out of me?" she asked him.

He looked troubled. "I don't know yet. But Angela," he laid his hand on hers, "we'll find a way."

*************************************************************

Angela had never missed anyone so much in her life. From the moment she opened her eyes, thoughts of Ben dominated her days. She wished she could go back in time to that terrible night. Maybe if she hadn't had so much to drink, she could have taken the bullet. After all, she had the Wolverine's healing abilities.

As Angela, she'd only experienced that one awful loss, and the pain hadn't gone away. She doubted it ever would.

So how, she wondered, was she supposed to become Rogue again? Rogue had experienced so much more pain in her life. That was why she'd left in the first place, because the constant ache of being who she was had broken her. She didn't want to go back to being that person.

"Hey, kid."

She didn't look up as Logan settled himself beside her under the tree. "I'm surprised you're even near me," she remarked listlessly. "Aren't you afraid the she-devil might jump you?"

He shifted. "No." Besides, Chuck had assured him that Carol would only be out the next morning.

"So," he began casually, "how are you holding up?"

She laughed humourlessly. "How do you think?" she asked. "In the past three months, I've lost my best friend, absorbed someone almost to the point of death, have a crazy woman in my head who's been hitting on you, been told that the only way I can stay sane is to become Rogue again, and - " her voice broke.

He didn't say anything for a long while. "Look, Stripes," he finally said, sounding surprisingly gentle. "I don't know what you're going through, not exactly. But I do know one thing. You never gave Rogue up. Angela, she's a part of Rogue, and no amount of denying is gonna change that."

"How do you know that?" she asked, suddenly furious. "How do you know that Angela wasn't the complete opposite of Rogue?"

"Because I know you, Stripes. I've known you since you were sixteen years old. You did good as Angela. And who knows, maybe if stuff hadn't happened, you'd still be in LA being Angela. But you would have spent the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you hadn't left. And you would have regretted leaving us." He sighed. "We missed you, kid. I missed you." The hand on her shoulder squeezed lightly before he left.

She stayed frozen for a long time after that. Then, a deep, shuddering sob tore out of her, and she was curled on the ground, weeping uncontrollably. When arms came around her, she didn't fight them. Instead, she turned her face into the coat, too grief-stricken to be embarrassed. Her throat was raw with crying, and her tears soaked through the rough material, but the arms didn't loosen or push her away. Instead, they tightened around her.

When her breathing evened out, signalling that she had cried herself to sleep, Remy stood up, still cradling her in his arms. "Wat happen t' y', _chere_?" he asked softly. "If Remy'd known t'at y' come back mo' broken t'an before, Remy come an' get y' long time ago. 'Sokay," he kissed her forehead. "Y' back now, an' Remy not goin' t' let y' go again."

*************************************************************


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: I had a bit of trouble with this chapter, and did a couple of rewrites. Carol's history is pretty much canon, but I took some creative liberties and made it slightly non-canon. Also, here's a bit of trivia: It was generally assumed and alluded that Carol and Captain Mar-vell were lovers, this is in fact not true, according to Captain Marvel (__.__). Instead, Mar-vell was in love with medic Una, who is also from Kree. _

_Now, on with the story. _

_Oh yes, read and review, please! _

**Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me…yada yada yada**

**WLB – Chap 15**

When Carol opened her eyes, she was lying in Angela's bed, and there was a warm body next to hers. She stretched and froze when said body moved closer. Her eyes widened. There was a warm _male_ body next to hers on the bed. She turned her head carefully and studied the man in the bed. Gambit. The love of Angela's life.

Her eyes widened. _Did Ms Priss…?_ She lifted the covers, not sure what she'd find and wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed that both she and the Gambit were still fully dressed. She debated with herself silently, before beginning to slide out of the bed.

She was almost at the door when he spoke. "Where y' goin' _chere_? It's y'r room, _non_? Remy leave."

"Why do you always refer to yourself in third person?" she asked, curiously. "Is it some kind of disorder?"

"Remy t'inks dat we've had t'is conversation b'fore," he mumbled into the pillow.

"Maybe you had this conversation with Angela, but you sure as heck didn't have it with _me_."

He sprang out of the bed in an instant. "_Merde!_"

She rolled her eyes. "Keep your pants on." She paused, a wicked smile blooming. "Actually, if you check, you'll see that your pants are definitely on. As are mine. Looks like neither of us got lucky last night."

He stared at her from across the safe expanse of the bed, but recovered quickly. "Dat depends on what y' count as lucky."

She snorted out a laugh. "If you're going to spout out something along the lines of holding her in your arms all night, I can promise you that I'll hurl on that beautiful jacket of yours."

"How y' know t'at Gambit was goin' t' say dat?" he wondered out loud.

"Didn't they tell you?" she widened her eyes. "I'm psychic too. Angela and I have heard every single thought in your head. I gotta tell you," she lowered her voice as his jaw fell open, "yours is the most interesting by far."

When he just continued to stare at her, she rolled her eyes and turned away. "Lighten up, it was a joke. I can't read your mind, because I'm not psychic. Happy now?"

"Why _y' _talk like dat?"

"Like what?" he huffed impatiently.

"Like y' some angry person, when y' actually not. Like _dat_."

"You don't know me, Cajun boy," she retorted angrily. "If you did, you would know never to try to analyse me, especially before I've had my coffee in the morning!" She yanked open the door. "Get out. You can have Angela back tomorrow morning."

He left the room silently, head bowed in thought. Behind him, the door slammed shut and he winced. _Looks like t'ey bot' have a temper_, he mused. _Maybe Remy get that petite som' coffee._ His decision made, he headed down to the kitchen.

*************************************************************

"You know," she said contemplatively, "just because you brought me coffee doesn't mean I like you, or that I'll put in a good word for you with Angela." She took a deep gulp of the beverage. "In fact, my putting in a good word for you is likely to ruin any chance of you having a future with her."

He smiled. "T'anks, but no t'anks, _petite_. Remy never needed 'elp in dat department."

She snorted. "Believe me, I know. She knows too. That's one of the reasons she left." She tapped her head.

If what she said affected him, he showed no reaction. Instead, he sat down comfortably on the grass. "Tell Remy 'bout y'self, _petite_," he said, patting the spot next to him.

She stared at him in surprise. "Why?" she asked suspiciously. The only other person in the mansion who had expressed any interest was the professor, and Carol suspected that that was a way to get inside her head and figure out her thought process.

"B'cause Gambit's curious," he shrugged. "Gambit is always curious."

"And that's it?" she asked incredulously. "You're curious?"

"_Bien_."

She laughed harshly, a biting sound that cut through the otherwise quiet day. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

And she told him her story. Once she started, she couldn't stop. She told him about her father, who loved her, but who had always wished that she'd been a boy. She told him about her mother Marie, a quiet woman who was content to stay in the background and her brother Joseph Jr, but who they called JJ or Jr. She told him about her favourite brother Steven, who'd died in battle. And then she told him why she'd joined the military. Her family assumed that it was because her father didn't believe in higher education for women, but Carol knew that if she'd wanted, she would have gotten a scholarship. No, she'd entered the military because Steven had been in the military, and she'd known that he'd have been proud of her.

She spoke well into the afternoon and she still wasn't done. Grabbing some sandwiches from the kitchen, they made their way up to the roof. She told him about her powers. "I'm not really a mutant, you know. I was an Air Force Pilot, a damn good one. Then I met Captain Mar-vell," she said this wistfully. "I'd been in love before, who hasn't? But he…changed me." She turned her head to study Remy. "You know what I mean, don't you?" It was a rhetorical question, one that didn't need an answer.

"Mar-vell was an alien, a Kree warrior," she continued, "but he looked human. I was assigned to investigate him, but we became friends. Many believed that we were more than friends, and I will admit that I wished we were too, but he was always the perfect gentleman. If he cared for me as someone more than a friend, he never showed it. But because we spent a lot of our time together our relationship was misconstrued. His superior Colonel Yon-Rogg, a man he was supposed to look up too, kidnapped me, thinking to use me as bait to get Mar-vell. Mar-vell came after me, and we were caught in a Kree Psyche-Magneton device explosion. He shielded me, but in the process, my genetic structure melded with his, and I became a hybrid of human and Kree genes, possessing all of his knowledge, training and powers. He stayed the same," she added, "but I didn't."

"And I became Ms Marvel."

She stopped, realising that she'd talked herself hoarse, but it was a good feeling. For the first time in months, she felt lighter, freer and she turned to study the man responsible for that. Remy hadn't her interrupted instead he had listened to her, an expression on intense concentration on his face while she talked.

She looked up at the setting sun, and then back at him. "Thank you."

"Fo' wat, _petite_?" he stretched.

"For listening. You didn't have to, and I know you weren't curious. You were being nice. So, thank you."

He didn't deny it, just nodded and stood up. "Y' know, _ma cherie_ is a lot like y'. Dat's not an insult," he said, when her eyes fired up, "Remy's Rogue de best of _filles_." He nodded at her and left.

She watched him go, lifting herself into the air. She circled the roof, hesitated, then called him. "Hey, Gambit!"

He poked his head back out. "_Quoi_?"

"She's still in love with you, you know. So don't give up." She didn't wait for an answer and flew away from the mansion. There were some things she needed to think about, and she did her best thinking while flying.


End file.
